


another stupid thing

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism (kinda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc refuses to clean Scott’s spunk from their Conn-Pod walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	another stupid thing

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled: there are noises coming from this jaeger. Alternatively known as the jaeger-washing bikini babe herc fic.
> 
> i would shout for someone/anyone to stop me but: just joking, don’t, i am having too much fun. god. this fic is so dumb the title is actually meta at this point.
> 
> written as the most coherent fandom thank you to mormorio that isn't just me screaming in delight because [her art is an inspirationnnnn](http://mormorio79.tumblr.com/post/125273200639/idk-why-i-draw-this-but-then) :'DD

Herc is always made an unwilling accomplice.

Because he is not just the 01 of the pair, he is also Scott Hansen’s older brother.

That alone is always going to be indication enough.

The earful they get from the Marshal of the Sydney ‘dome after their practice run is nothing new. It doesn’t mean that it’s any less deserved though. With Scott’s little stunt in their Jaeger, a literal billion-dollar machine, this is not his first time. It is not about to be his last either.

But his elation is so contagious, always infectious and all of it gets into Herc’s head too easily with Scott at such a close proximity.

(It is even worse after an actual fight or at the prospect of one. The surge of adrenaline leaves Herc in a heady rush. An infinite high that comes and comes. It’s probably fucking reckless, being out there facing down the Kaiju with the kind of emotion he feels, but being in Scott’s head always has him going along with the stupidest things.)

Their punishment has him standing at the foot of their Jaeger with a heavy duty sponge, an already murky bucket of water at his feet. It is a little cooler in Lucky’s shade but the sun coming through the open Jaeger Bay doors keeps the air stifling hot. His tank is soaked through with sweat, and he wants to wrap his hands around Scott’s throat in a way that the other man will distinctly _not_ enjoy.

The mud is really caked on, and he could do with dunking his brother’s head in that bucket if the man is anywhere _close_.

He is sweating out of his skin, he’s left all alone, and to say that he’s more angry about the latter than being left to scrub their Jaeger clean on his own is not a lie one bit. When he bites back an aggravated growl that can send any of Lucky’s newbie techs running, to say that he is pissed off is an understatement all on its own.

He finds Scott up on the catwalks leading to the Conn-Pod, cigarette dangling from between two fingers, the rag he is handed by someone from the clean up crew already nowhere in sight. Herc does not make it a habit of walking with a stomp in his steps, he is not a fucking kid but he wants to make a point. And this is the only way he knows only because Scott makes it a habit of not understanding it any other way.

“Went lookin’ for you everywhere.”

“You knew exactly where I was.” Scott points out, pulling another drag into his lungs, not turning to look at his brother but taking his sweet time to stub out his cigarette.

“Yeah, fuckin’ slacking.”

Scott laughs at the mutter, standing up to stretch his legs, tossing aside a wrench that he hasn’t been using anyway. “I needed a—” The word he is looking for is _break_ , but it doesn’t come to mind for a full second when he turns around. Even the laughter falls a little short.

Because there is his older brother in a soaked through tank, one that is being stretched taut as Herc drags the bottom of his threadbare top to wipe the sweat from his neck.

It’s not a flash of skin.

It is a show the man has no idea he is putting on.

“You didn’t even start on Lucky’s right foot did you?”

He is oblivious to what he does to him, that question alone is indication enough.

And, what he does to him is _ridiculous_.

“…Caught me there, ‘Le.”

How Herc doesn’t realize it remains one big mystery when Scott's reply is more than a little breathy. So, he makes a low noise from his throat, an appreciative one because Scott wants to be the one to run a hand across all that heated skin. He wants to press him back against the metal and listen to Herc as he pants into his ear for a release he isn’t about to give him for a moment longer.

He wants his face red, his grip tight in the bright afternoon sun.

Herc is filthy and pissed off and Scott wants to fuck him against their Jaeger.

Where anyone who has the mild curiosity of glancing up could very well see Herc with his belt undone and hanging wide open, his brother doing something more obscene than taking him by a spit-slicked hand. But Herc is as decent as the Hansen boys come.

Scott makes a compromise and looks to their open Conn-Pod deliberately, his intentions clear. Because if there’s anything his brother knows, he knows exactly how Scott’s head works. He walks over, he reaches out to hook a finger into the belt hoop of Herc’s pants, yanking him a little too close.

He wants to fuck the decency out of Herc in full view of the ‘dome, that much goes unsaid. Stake his claim on him like the obnoxious ink of Lucky’s wings spanning Herc’s shoulders isn’t enough, like the duplicate dog tags exchanged don’t state that loud enough.

That Herc is Scott’s and Scott is Herc’s.

And how he is really getting hard for him now.

“Come on,” Scott tells him, dragging him along, pressing his mouth then teeth to his skin to taste the salt, to draw the blood to the surface. The fact that this doesn’t rank in the top five of some of the stupidest things they’ve done is really indication enough but Scott loves the way Herc’s protests make his mouth twist. “Let’s take a break.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Scotty.” Herc tries to fight him, not like they do in the Kwoon, but he is determined because he does not need the techs to catch him with his pants down, disgracing their lady like this.

Scott’s grin is all teeth, like this is exactly the dare he is waiting on, one foot already in their Jaeger, a hand grasping a handful of that see through tank. Herc's protests come more as a line drawn in the sand because he is always soft on him. And there’s no stumble when he comes to him.

“I’m not cleaning your spunk from Lucky’s Conn-Pod.”

“Wouldn’t need to if you just learned to swallow, ‘Le.”

He yanks him in that short distance, and this time (like all the rest), there’s still room to convince Herc of otherwise.

 

XXX Kuro

**Author's Note:**

> ~~(cue scott cleaning it off of herc's face because facials are totally scott's kind of kink. also, martini's ginger lashes. sEEING MYSELF OUT NOW.)~~


End file.
